There is a transformation that occurs when routine moves from a daily required task to the last time you will ever do something.

And so it was as we woke up yesterday morning and swept the frost off the tent that had formed throughout the night. The day prior, we viewed this activity with disdain (and pain) but this being our last day of skiing, there was now a nostalgia to this act. Lacing up our boots can often be stressful (seriously) because if we don't tie them properly, we might get a blister or worse. This last time putting our boots however, there was none of that intensity. We could easily deal with something for a few hours.

Simultaneously, it is also quite sad knowing that this would be our last day on the ice. Being out here is a unique opportunity and one that, even though I've spent nearly a year of my life on Arctic Ocean expeditions, I do not take lightly. This frozen place is like no other on the planet.

'Let's continue to be safe in our movements and thoughtful in our systems today,' I instructed Bachir and Victor. 'But also take time too look around and appreciate where we are.'

We skied across a variety of drifted in older pans winding our way steadily north. By compass had been acting up for the past few days so I skied along by dead reckoning using the sun and angle of the snowdrifts to check my direction - every once in a while checking my Garmin GPS for reference. It was slow going with tired muscles and at our first break I, for the first time, asked Victor and Bachir to push through the morning lethargy and slightly (very) increase the pace.

Skiing faster is a dangerous game as it generally means your body generates more heat, which leads to sweat which leads to wet clothes which reduce your body's ability to insulate as well as just plain freezing in the cold. But with the request also came a reminder, 'if you get too warm, take a layer off.'

We got into a more open area and younger ice during the second shift which turned slabby and broken. Still, I was relieved at the colder temperatures as every crack, split or lead was frozen thick enough to support our weight without breaking through.

Visibility started to drop just as we entered a really cracked area of small slabs roughly 20 to 30 meters across. In areas like this, it seems like the ice is trying to swallow us whole. We wound around connecting edges. I call this type of travel puzzle-piece navigation where about 25 percent of the pieces are missing and we simply try to connect the 'corners' to find a safe route.

I was glad to have this mess here, roughly two mile the from the pole, as it meant our changes of having good, flat ice at the pole were that much better.

'Where there is bad ice,' I often say. 'Good ice will follow.' Of course, the reverse is also true.

Closing in on the pole with limited visibility, I navigated solely by GPS watching the latitude numbers increase meant I was getting closer, having them decrease, farther away. In the end, we traveled in decreasing concentric circles. Because the ice is moving (and we are on the ice) we are trying to zero in on an ever moving target. In the end, we unhooked from our sleds and skied in one more loop before arriving at 90 Degrees North latitude- the Geographic North Pole.

We took a few pictures of the GPS, then 30 seconds later we had drifted a few feet away.

This is my second fifth time at the North Pole - the first three were in 2006, 2010, 2014 after two month epic sufferfests.

For Bachir this trip represents a huge accomplishment. I met Bachir in 2015, when he enrolled in my Lake Winnipeg polar training course and at that time the North Pole was just a pipe dream. But he kept dreaming, trained hard and is now the first ever Syrian to complete a Last Degree North Pole.

Victor, has been chasing a series of adventures that began many, many years ago when he first climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. That lead to a bid to climb the seven summits (the tallest peak on every continent) and now with each reaching the North Pole has completed what is now being called, the 'Adventurer's Grans Slam' - climbing the seven summits and skiing the last degree to both poles.

Our celebration was brief and after snapping a few more pictures, we set up the tent and luxuriated in warmth not needing to melt extra snow for the trail in the morning. We shared a whole tube of Pringles and laughed at all the crazy experiences we shared over the past week.

Throughout our adventure, we functioned efficiently as a team through some very intense conditions. In working together to achieve our goal, we have also become friends.

I didn't set my alarm in the morning and instead woke up in the late morning. A couple hours later the Russian MI-8 helicopter picked us up at the pole and whisked is effortlessly back to Barneo - where we will spend the night stacked like cordwood in an overheated bunkhouse and fly back to Longyearbyen in the morning.

Thanks to everyone for following along. Always remember, it's cool to be cold. Think Snow!